


Begin Again

by celeste9



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Banter, Established Relationship, M/M, Stealth Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-08 23:00:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3226697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/pseuds/celeste9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint comes to wish Coulson merry Christmas, three weeks late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Begin Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fredbassett](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fredbassett/gifts).



> For fredbassett in Fandom Stocking. Contains a stealth crossover, and also assumes knowledge of the MCU through Cap 2 and AoS season 1.

“Merry Christmas,” Clint said, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest.

May barely paused from her relentless attack on the innocent punching bag. “You’re three weeks late.”

“It’s the thought that counts? And, hey, what’s up with the Bobsey twins you’ve got running the security in this place? They made me wear a lanyard.”

“They do that.”

Clint realized that May really wasn’t going to interrupt her schedule to humor him, so he said, “Coulson in?”

May jerked her head slightly. “His office is that way.”

“Cool.” Pausing a moment before he left, Clint said, “You know, I might have had a present for you. If you’d been nice.”

Though she was still hardly giving him any of her attention, Clint could see the way May’s mouth was curved slightly in amusement. “Presents? From you, Barton? As if you aren’t going to march straight into Coulson’s office like you’re the only gift he needs.”

Clint grinned. “I was gonna wear a bow, but I thought that might be too much.”

“You should’ve gone for it,” May called after him.

“Maybe next time,” he answered back and kept walking to Coulson’s office.

Director Coulson. He still couldn’t get used to it. He had barely had time to process the fact that Coulson was alive and then suddenly S.H.I.E.L.D. was Hydra and then there was no S.H.I.E.L.D.

And now Coulson was director. It was enough to give a guy whiplash.

Clint managed to pass through the halls unnoticed, avoiding the other members of Coulson’s team. Was he supposed to call them S.H.I.E.L.D. agents? Was that what they were now? Again? It was too damned confusing.

He stopped outside the closed door of Coulson’s office, waited a second, and then simply pushed through. He was Clint Barton, he needed no invitation. Or so he liked to think, anyway.

“Oh, sir,” Clint said, shaking his head. “I see I’ve come too late.”

Coulson closed the cover of his book too late to hide that it was a YA romance. He left it out on the top of his desk as if to prove he wasn’t ashamed. “The writing is of a very high quality,” he insisted.

“And here I thought you were too busy for fun.”

“May is adamant that I schedule ‘me time’ every day. She says that way she doesn’t have to worry about unscheduled accidents so much.”

Clint deposited himself into the chair in front of Coulson’s desk. “You mean, unscheduled accidents like you flipping out on some poor, unsuspecting baby agent?”

“Most of those incidents were unsupported rumors.”

“Yeah, most of them, and the rest Tasha or I can bear witness to.”

Coulson waved a hand. “So you say. What are you doing here, anyway?”

“What, can’t I just drop in because I want to? It’s Christmas. Seemed right.”

“You’re extremely tardy, then.”

So he was. He was sorry about that. Last Christmas Coulson had been dead (to Clint, anyway) so this year Clint had wanted so much to be with him, but this was the life they led, so. “I’ve been in London. Helping out. There’s this team, they fight fucking dinosaurs, Phil. _Dinosaurs._ ”

“Really.”

“Yeah, really. You’d like them. It’s pretty much a madhouse run by this sarcastic guy in a suit. Good times.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Jealous?” Clint said, leaning back in the chair and spreading his legs. “You know there’s only one sarcastic guy in a suit for me.”

“Stark?” Coulson said, feigning ignorance.

Clint blinked. “Huh? No. I mean, can you imagine? We wouldn’t be able to stop talking over each other long enough to fuck.”

Looking pained, Coulson said, “How many times have I asked you not to convey mental images of Tony Stark naked?”

“But he was so broken up over your death, sir,” Clint said innocently. “He paid for all the funeral arrangements, you know. Almost like you were friends or something. He cried.”

“He did not.”

“Okay, maybe not. But he did hold Ms Potts while she cried.”

Coulson flinched, and Clint really wished he hadn’t said that. The whole thing was still too big, too real, and the only way Clint knew how to deal with it was to make a joke. But sometimes too much was too much and it all became inappropriate.

“Sorry,” Clint said. “Sometimes I’m a dick.”

“Only sometimes?”

“Fuck off,” Clint said, but Coulson was smiling faintly so Clint was, too.

“Why are you really here, Clint?”

That was… Okay, that was not an easy question with an easy answer. Clint was there to see Phil, because he missed, him, okay? But it was also true that Clint had stayed away longer than he could have because… because Coulson was the _director_ of _S.H.I.E.L.D._ Coulson wasn’t Agent Coulson. He wasn’t Clint’s handler. He was the new Nick Fury, and that was fucking scary.

And this was S.H.I.E.L.D. Clint didn’t know what to think about the fact that Coulson was salvaging it, that he wasn’t letting S.H.I.E.L.D. die the death it probably deserved. Clint had a lot of complicated feelings about the agency that had, quite frankly, saved his life, but had then gone on to own him and to also turn out to be none of the things it had pretended to be. Steve had destroyed S.H.I.E.L.D. because it deserved to be destroyed, only it still wasn’t gone.

Maybe S.H.I.E.L.D. was a cockroach.

Coulson hadn’t asked Clint to become an agent again. He hadn’t asked Natasha to, either, for that matter. Sure, they were Avengers now, but they had juggled being both S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and Avengers before. Honestly, Clint was glad Coulson hadn’t asked because he wasn’t sure what his answer would be, and he thought he needed some more time to figure that out.

So for Clint to come here, well… It was complicated.

This was another one of those things that Clint didn’t know how to deal with like an actual adult, so. “I’m here to give you your Christmas present, sir,” he said, smirking.

Coulson eyed him. “I’m not sure I want to know where you’ve stashed it.”

“I haven’t stashed it anywhere, obviously. You’re looking at it.”

“Hm. The presentation could be better.”

“The presentation is goddamned amazing and I think you should come over here and see for yourself.”

“Should I?” Coulson reached out for his book. “I was right in the middle of a chapter.”

“Phil,” Clint whined. “I came all the way from London. I flew coach, on an actual commercial plane. Like a regular person. I’m wearing a _lanyard._ ” He held it out just to make sure Coulson could see it.

“Well, gosh, if you’re wearing a _lanyard,_ ” Coulson said, finally getting up from his chair and moving around the desk. “Why didn’t you say that earlier?”

Clint helpfully scooted his chair back some so Coulson could fit in between his legs.

Coulson reached down to touch the offending item, pulling on it so that Clint was obliged to lean forward. Coulson then leaned down so they could meet halfway, their lips touching in a kiss.

Agent Coulson, Director Coulson, whatever the fuck Coulson, Clint decided it didn’t matter. Phil. He was Phil, and Phil was still Clint’s.

**_End_ **


End file.
